His Sin
by dogsrock101
Summary: She was his sin, his addiction. The forbidden fruit. "I know of all your sins, William T. Spears. I know your darkest thoughts and deepest desires." Every night he vainly tried to catch her, and every night she slipped away from his grasp.


Will could not remember the last time he felt so invigorated, so alive, so _free._ In fact, he wasn't sure if he'd _ever_ felt this way before. His very existence had always consisted of the same dull and repetitive routines. He had never once considered his life monotonous; he had simply accepted it as it was.

That was, until he met her.

Many weeks ago, Will had received an assignment to go investigate the unusually high death tolls that were occurring around the Thames River. Interestingly enough, all the victims had been murdered in the same manner: their souls had very literally been ripped out of their bodies. Will had known immediately that this was the work of a demon, and probably a young one at that. And so he had gone down to London to further investigate.

Will had been correct, of course. He had confronted the demon just as she had been about to dine on a blissfully unaware human.

 _"A Reaper?" The corner of her lips curved upwards as she dodged the swing of his Death Scythe. "And here I thought you lot were just another one of the spun-up tales our Elders enjoyed telling us."_

Oh, yes, she was even younger than he'd initially thought – fresh out of Hell, it seemed. She was shockingly ignorant, and aggravatingly stubborn. How she had breezily sidestepped his attacks and nonchalantly shrugged off his words of warning! After she had disappeared into the shadows of the night, Will swore to himself he would catch that demon, no matter the costs.

And so the deadly chase began.

She thought it was all a game, the blasted wretch! How she would laugh and tease him, her blood red eyes glowing with amusement and her lips quirking up to a smirk. She was jarringly carefree, prancing about in the dark streets of London barefooted, her black curls and dress flying out wildly behind her. Every night Will vainly tried to catch her, and every night she slipped away from his grasp, all but an arm's length away.

She was everything he despised. An unleashed demon, she had no respect for the rules Will bound himself to live by. She was a wild, untamed beast, preying on unfortunate souls that fell victim to her sweet words and promises.

His loathing of her, however, eventually became mixed with admiration. She was her own master. She was not bound by rules and regulations, procedures and protocols, like he was. She was free. Free to do whatever it was her black heart desired. He, on the other hand, was trapped. Chained to his duty. Day after day he quietly suffocated under the dullness of his work, filing paperwork and staring into the depths of cinematic records that threatened to wrap around him and hold him hostage.

But when night fell, he would quietly sneak down to the dark streets of London, and she would be waiting for him. She was both his sin and his savior. She freed him from the shackles that threatened to drag him down to the very depths of the earth and drown him. Yet how twisted and wrong it all was. She was a demon! He was supposed to be repulsed by her very presence, not enjoy her flirtatious taunts and tantalizing smirk. Sometimes he wondered if she had freed him from his shackles only to clasp another set on him, binding him to her.

But he didn't care. When they played their game of cat and mouse, running into the early hours of the morning, he felt free. _Alive._ There was nothing better than the feel of the ground underneath his feet and the bitter sting of the cold air whipping against his cheeks. Sin be damned!

A sudden roar of laughter burst from his chest. The demon twirled around at the sound, her blood red eyes wide in surprise. He seized his moment – not once did he ever catch her off guard like he just had – and grasped her wrist, slamming her hard against the alley wall. His hands on either side of her, he caught his breath, his chest heaving in exertion. Her blood red eyes locked onto his yellow-green ones, and he found that he could not look away.

"Well," she said softly, her lips curving up into her characteristic smirk. "It seems you've finally caught me, William."

He relished hearing his name on her tongue; how sweet and deliciously sinful it sounded from her lips.

"So I have." Realization and a sudden, inexplicable sense of loss overwhelmed him. He had never thought the game would end. What now?

She seemed to have read his mind. Her smirk was knowing, and she traced a slender finger along his jaw. He shivered at the touch, but did not retract from her.

"I know of all your sins, William T. Spears. I know your darkest thoughts and deepest desires." Her voice was but a whisper. She leaned in closer to him, her lips hovering dangerously close to his own. He inhaled sharply. "But I shall like a taste of them."

Her lips were upon his before he could react. She tasted of sin and lust and death and all things dark. Her hands were on him, touching and exploring, and he gasped when he felt her tongue prod against his lips.

"Enough!" He took a hold of her shoulders and pushed her back against the wall. She smirked wickedly at him, and he glared at her, feeling a flush appear upon his cheeks. Revolted, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He enjoyed the kiss far more than he would ever let on (precisely why he was so revolted), and she knew it. She laughed softly.

"Your sins taste even better than I thought they would, love."

He growled at her. Without forewarning, he drew back his arm and let his Death Scythe soar. She avoided the blow narrowly and ducked under his arms, running out of his reach. The sun was beginning to rise, casting the alleyway in a strange, hazy light.

She grinned at him, revealing her sharp teeth. "It was a fun night, love." She winked at him. "Perhaps next time we shall make your desires a reality." She laughed as he flushed red. With an inarticulate cry, he swung his Death Scythe towards her. It hit solid ground, however, as she had disappeared in a blur of black smoke. The only trace of her left was her receding, devilish laugh.

Next time, she had said. They were still playing their little game of cat and mouse, Reaper and demon. She knew as well as he did that he would keep chasing her. She was his addiction, the cure to his monotonous existence. He needed her, else he would drown.

He put a finger to his lips, remembering the taste of her lips.

He had just had a taste of the forbidden fruit, and he hungered for more.

* * *

 _Hi all! I haven't written for this fandom in nearly 4 years now! :o It's interesting to see how much my writing content and style has changed over the years, even though this one-shot is actually relatively similar to the other one I wrote here._

 _My goal for this one-shot was to capture Will's dark side. It was honestly pretty difficult, as this isn't the kind of writing I usually do, so I would be open to any and all criticism and feedback. Thank you!_


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